


Hunted

by stilinski_wolf



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe, But some of it is still described in the fic, Former Hunter!Stiles, Gun Violence, Hunters vs. Werewolves, M/M, Sterek Reverse Bang 2017, The details of the torture are not extensive, Torture, blowjob, forbidden relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2017-06-20
Packaged: 2018-11-16 16:21:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11256603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stilinski_wolf/pseuds/stilinski_wolf
Summary: Stiles and Derek grew up hating each other's kind, embroiled in a war between hunters and werewolves.But instead of wanting each other dead, they fall in love, which ends in them captured by hunters for that love. Stiles may live at the end of it because he's human, but they will kill Derek, and that means leaving Stiles devastated and broken, and Derek is determined not to let that happen.Stiles and Derek have to then find a way to escape or it will be end of the both of them before they can even try to put an end to the war.





	Hunted

**Author's Note:**

> This was a story written for the [SterekReverseBang](http://sterekreversebang.tumblr.com).
> 
>  **Warning:** The aftermath of Stiles' torture is described via Derek seeing his injuries, and some of Derek's torture is described in the story. 
> 
> A big thank you to [frogsandboxes](http://frogsandboxes.tumblr.com) for the beautiful art that inspired this fic. Without it I wouldn't have written this story. I hope I did your wonderful art justice :)
> 
> Also a huge HUGE thank you to my beta for this story, [TroubleIWant](http://troubleiwant.tumblr.com) for which this story very much needed it. It is a stronger story with your suggestions and insight, so thank you. 
> 
> Hope you all enjoy! If you read and find anything I didn't warn beforehand for, please let me know!

[Art by: [frogsandboxes](http://frogsandboxes.tumblr.com)]

Derek swallowed past the lump in his throat. “Why did you do it? Why did you put yourself in the line of fire for me?”

He felt Stiles move his head against the back of his, most likely trying to look at Derek as best he could. “I’d always thought…even as I was falling in love with you, that I would be able to let you go eventually. That I would be able to do it without a thought at first, and even if it hurt after I’d fallen for you. But then I found myself running away with you, which is something I would have even considered before. Then when the time actually came to either stand aside or let them capture - no, kill you - I just…couldn’t. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t choose them over you.”

“You mean your father,” Derek murmured, reaching back with his cuffed right hand to reach for Stiles’ cuffed left hand, and then he was entwining their fingers together, breath catching at being able to feel Stiles’ skin against his again, even just in this small way. 

Stiles didn’t answer for the longest time before he whispered, “Yeah.” 

“It was stupid,” Derek turned his head then as well, and felt Stiles’ temple against his, the faintest touch of Stiles’ skin to his. “You’re going to get hurt because of me.”

“I would have hurt worse if I’d let them kill you,” Stiles said. 

“You would have healed eventually, though,” Derek said. “You would have moved on.”

“They won’t kill their leader’s son. I’ll heal from this, too.”

“Not if they do irreparable damage. And you’re human, Stiles, you can’t heal easily if they do,” Derek said, persistent. So far, they’d only tortured Derek, who was so used to the act and feel of torture that he was still okay. They hadn’t moved passed the farthest Derek had ever endured yet, and he could handle it. But they had promised that Stiles’ turn was coming soon, and they wouldn’t be kind to him just because he was John Stilinski’s son. He was a traitor, a wolf lover. An abomination, in their eyes. 

And that had Derek’s heart pounding constantly, had his mind whirling with panic and images of Stiles hurt, broken, crying out for him when he couldn’t get to him. The only reason he sounded remotely calm at the moment was because of Stiles. He was always able to calm Derek and give him peace. Because of his kindness, because of the way he made Derek laugh. Because of his sharp wit and unending intelligence. Because of his beauty. Because of him. Derek knew he would be in love with Stiles until the day he died. Even if that day happened to be tomorrow. 

“Why can’t I hear your heart beating frantically?” Derek said. “Why aren’t you freaking out?”

“I probably will when they come in,” Stiles sighed. “But right now the man I love is with me, he’s holding my hand, rubbing his thumb soothingly on my skin. It feels good.”

“The man you love, huh?” Derek murmured, turning his head as far as he could to see Stiles, who did the same. Their faces were so close that Derek could see himself reflected in Stiles’ eyes. 

“Yes,” Stiles said firmly, and as he stretched out his left hand on the ground to make it easier for him to turn more fully toward Derek, the chain between the handcuffs holding them together rattled, sliding along the floor with Stiles’ hand, the hunters having been so confident that they wouldn’t escape that they hadn’t bothered to attach the chain to the metal ring sticking out of the concrete a few feet away from them. Derek twisted around as well, not caring if they were violating the hunters’ threats that they would hurt them even more if they turned toward each other. They were already planning to hurt them anyway. 

Stiles pressed his lips to Derek’s, and it was at an awkward angle, not making for the best kiss they’d ever had, but Derek reveled in it anyway, sighing into the kiss. “This is ridiculous,” Stiles huffed out a laugh, turning around so that he was on his knees facing Derek, and so Derek did the same, the chain rattled loudly as it was dragged across the floor. Stiles cradled Derek’s face in his hands and they stared at each other for a long, silent moment before Stiles leaned forward and kissed Derek properly. Derek ignored the incessant rattling of the chain and kissed Stiles back with just as much enthusiasm. 

But then there was a screech of sound as the metal door to the barren, empty room was opened and they sprung apart, although not before the man walking into the room saw Stiles’ hands cradling Derek’s face. 

Behind the man trailed two other men, toting a rifle and a handgun respectively. The first man held a taser. 

The man with the taser looked from Derek to Stiles before one of the nastiest expressions Derek had ever seen crossed the man’s face.

“You’re a disgrace, Stilinski. Your father is devastated. His own son, a lover of beasts.” The man spat, and his spit landed right where Stiles sat on his knees. Stiles kept his face impassive, but Derek saw the tightening of his jaw as he glanced up at the man.

“I’m not the one holding people hostage and planning to torture them, Mike,” Stiles snapped, and Derek felt his heart beat faster in both fear and awe of the man sitting across from him. Stiles’ bravery in the face of true danger had always scared Derek, but he loved how fierce Stiles was, how strong he was in the face of that danger. And if they weren’t currently facing their imminent deaths, Derek would find it incredibly sexy.

“I see only one person here,” Mike said, completely ignoring Derek. Then he nodded back at the two men lingering by the closed metal door. “Get the animal.” 

Stiles turned wide eyes to Derek. “Don’t! Don’t touch him!” Stiles had probably thought that he would be next to be tortured, and of course he’d accepted that without much fear or anguish. They were similar in that respect - not wanting anyone else be hurt, but not caring about their own safety at the same time.

“You think we tortured the animal and now we changed our minds and want you two here for some tea and conversation, Stilinski?” Mike laughed, and Derek remained passive as the two men each grabbed one of his arms roughly and hauled him up to his feet. “Don’t worry, he’ll live. For now.”

Stiles continued to shout, springing up and trying to shove the two men off Derek. “I’ll fucking kill you!” Stiles cried as he punched one of the men in the face. The man fell to the ground, moaning in pain, his rifle clattered to the ground along with him and skidding a few feet away. 

But then Mike was there, wrapping a tight arm around Stiles’ neck.

“Please don’t!” Derek gasped out, but he was ignored as he lunged forward, reaching for Mike’s arm. Mike was ready, and he held his taser out with his other hand. Derek shouted out in pain when the taser connected to his chest and searing electricity shot throughout his whole body, causing him to collapse to the ground with a gasp. 

Stiles tried to elbow Mike in the gut, but Mike had already thrown the taser aside so his free hand could capture Stiles’ arm, stopping him. Stiles let out a frustrated yell.

And then Derek was being uncuffed by the man who Stiles had punched, blood dripping down the man’s face from his nose, and the other hunter grabbed Derek as tremor after tremor racked Derek’s body. The hunter Stiles punched locked the cuff around a metal ring that was sticking out of the concrete floor, keeping Stiles secured. And then he came back over to Derek so that Derek was held by both men as Mike held Stiles back.

Derek looked up, his eyesight blurry, his moves slowed as he saw Stiles kicking out, his body wildly flailing as he tried to free himself from Mike’s strong hold.

“Derek!” Stiles screamed, but when Derek tried to go to Stiles he only got a feeble step in before the two men were grabbing him more securely and dragging him away. 

“Pl-lease-don’t-” Derek mumbled, but no one heard him over Stiles’ screams and struggles and the men holding Derek laughing, the metal door screeching open. 

“I’ll fucking kill you!” Stiles cried, and they left the door open just long enough for Derek to see Mike knock Stiles out with a punch to his face, and then Derek started struggling. 

But Mike came out, shut the door, and tased Derek several times until blackness filled his vision and his eyes closed as he lost consciousness.

~*~

Derek’s vision was still blurry, but he could see all three hunters as they hovered over him, various weapons in their hands. 

The leader, Mike, who had been holding Stiles back in that room, held a gun with regular bullets in it. He thought it was fun to shoot Derek over and over and hear Derek’s screams of pain, laughing as he dug his fingers into Derek’s flesh and pulled the ultimately harmless bullet out of Derek’s skin, and told Derek how disgusting it was when his flesh healed as if the bullet had never been there. 

It might have looked like the pain hadn’t been coursing through Derek’s body, but it was very real, and if they hadn’t weakened Derek so much, he would be doing everything he could to tear their throats out so he could get to Stiles. 

Stiles. 

He was alone in that cold, dark, empty room, probably scared out of his mind. Not for himself, of course, but for Derek. They both knew that whatever they did to Stiles, they would let him live, because in the end he was still human. There was no guarantee for Derek, however. 

They would kill him after they were done having their fun, and they would probably do it by cutting his head off, or cutting him in half, and leaving him for Stiles to see. 

Derek was determined not to let that happen. Derek would always choose to die if it kept Stiles, the beautiful, intelligent, witty man he was in love with, alive. But this wasn’t a choice. It wouldn’t be Derek or Stiles. It would always be Derek, and so Derek had to live, no matter what. If he could help it, he would never put Stiles through the pain of not only Derek’s death, but seeing him like that. 

The devastation that would put Stiles through was almost too much to think about. All Derek could see was Stiles collapsing to the ground, sobbing, crying out for Derek. And Derek unable to get to him, unable to comfort him, hold him, kiss him. Love him. 

The thought of Stiles alone, left to the mercy of these people, left a fear in him so ample that he felt it in his bones, the fear of the man he loved being anything but happy. 

So Derek held on. He kept Stiles in the front of his mind, and didn’t let the pain take over his mind, didn’t let it rule him. 

“You’re stronger than we gave your credit for, wolf,” Mike said. “We’ll give you that. But even you freaks can’t handle torture for days at a time.”

“Wanna bet?” Derek muttered, not loud enough for them to make out what he said, but loud enough for them to have heard him say something.

“What was that, beast?” Mike said, leaning close to Derek and cupping his ear mockingly. “Did you try to speak?” Mike turned to his two fellow hunters, grinning. “The animal tries to speak, boys.”

“Didn’t quite form words there, sir,” one of them said - the one that Stiles had punched - and it was funny that the man could smirk with dried blood and a bruise marring his face. It didn’t look scary or menacing at all to Derek. 

Mike turned back to Derek, and his face was serious, the hatred plain as day on his face. “You touched a human, wolf. You tried to convince Stilinski’s innocent kid that you were anything close to human just so you could corrupt him, get him on your side. We’re going to fix what you’ve done.”

Derek let himself show just as much hatred for the man staring down at him, and had to fight back a smile at the way the man flinched back from him.

“So tough, so brave,” Derek murmured from where he lay on the ground, hands and feet bound by cuffs hooked to the wall, body battered and bruised from their torture. “And yet you can’t even stare down the man you’re torturing.”

“You’re not a man,” Mike hissed, and then spat, some of the spit landing on Derek’s cheek. The man smirked as Derek grimaced. “You’re an animal. You’re not even that! You’re a monster.”

Derek sighed and turned onto his back, metal clanking as he moved. “If I was a real monster, you would have never been able to overpower me, and you’d be dead by now.”

Mike’s features twisted with range, and he held up his gun at Derek again as he spat out, “you were distracted at the time with your tongue down Stilinski’s throat and your hands on his body. So into your little treat you didn’t even see us coming. It was a disgusting sight to see.”

“Threw up a little in my mouth,” one of the other two - the third one who hadn’t spoken much until that moment - cringed. 

“Look, are you here to torture me or have a nice chat?” Derek deadpanned, effecting a look of boredom as he stared up at his captors. “If we are, could you uncuff me? Laying down isn’t the most comfortable position to be in while gossiping. So, if you please...” Derek said, holding out his chained hands, and looked up expectantly at Mike.

His smirk was ugly, and when he shot Derek in the stomach, Derek shouted out in pain. 

“Torture it is, then,” Derek rasped just as the man pistol whipped him. 

~*~

“Derek! Derek, come on! Wake up!”

Derek felt a sting and his head was snapped sideways. He gasped awake to see Stiles leaning over him, his eyes wide and scared. 

“Oh, thank fuck,” Stiles let out a relieved breath that sounded close to a sob, his eyes shining with what looked like held back tears. “I thought they brought you back to me dead, you fucker!” 

Derek coughed, slowly sitting up as he became aware that he was back in the concrete room from before, and he and Stiles were handcuffed together again. “I told you I’d never leave you, and I won’t,” Derek said, voice hard. 

“And I love you for that, Derek, but I told you that you can’t promise something like that,” Stiles said, cupping Derek’s face in his hands. “They did this so I’d see it.”

“What do you mean?” Derek coughed again, feeling the aches and pains in his body. They’d tortured him for so long that he still hadn’t completely healed. 

“They must have given you wolfsbane,” Stiles whispered, eyes pained as he took in Derek’s state. “You haven’t healed completely yet.”

Derek sighed, closing his eyes, feeling too tired to keep them open in that moment. “I thought so.”

“Derek…” Stiles trailed off, and when Derek forced his eyes open, he saw tears fall down Stiles’ face.

“Stiles,” Derek whispered, reaching up to wipe a tear away. 

“They’re going to kill you, aren’t they?” Stiles choked out, and when Derek didn’t answer, Stiles got his answer. He immediately shook his head, more tears falling. “No, no I refuse to believe that is how this is going to end. I won’t lose you.”

“Now who’s making promises they can’t keep?” Derek said, and winced as he moved, trying to get his ankle moving. It felt too stiff, like they had broken it at some point. He couldn’t remember if they had. Probably. 

“I’ll think of something,” Stiles said, determination in his voice and on his face as started looking around the empty floor around them. 

“What are you doing?”

“Trying to see if there’s anything they dropped, like a pin or something, anything so I can pick the lock,” Stiles muttered, hands moving across the concrete. 

Derek sighed. Stiles wasn’t going to find anything. 

They didn’t have long for this reunion, though, as moments later the door opened, and in came Mike. 

“You’re up, Stilinski.” And then he grinned. 

Derek growled, actually let out a real growl through his chest, and then he was standing up, moving in front of Stiles. 

“Oh, how cute,” Mike laughed. 

But before the other hunters could come and forcibly remove Derek from protecting Stiles, Stiles stepped out from behind Derek, resting his hand on his arm. 

“It’s no use, Derek. We learned that from before when we tried to fight. I’ll be okay. They won’t kill me.” Stiles was confident as he moved away from Derek, holding out his wrist so the hunter, smirking, could uncuff him. When Mike grabbed Stiles roughly by the arm though, Derek growled again and took a menacing step forward.

“Ah ah ah, do as Stilinski says,” the man held out the hand not holding onto Stiles, taser pointed toward Derek, ready to hurt him. 

Derek stopped, looked at Stiles, who was pleading with his eyes for Derek to let it go. 

Derek relaxed his muscles and took a cautious step away from the taser. Derek would stand down, for now. 

Turning cold eyes on Mike, who was smirking at Derek as he pushed Stiles toward the door and the two others from before grabbed Stiles roughly, Derek started to form a plan. 

Because Stiles wasn’t going to die, but neither was Derek. He wondered if that conviction, that he wasn’t going to die, showed through his eyes as he stared at Mike. 

He hoped it did. 

~*~

Derek was chained to the ground, like Stiles had been when they’d taken Derek. It had been an hour since they had taken Stiles. 

Derek had gotten out the handcuff within minutes by breaking his thumb, a trick he’d learned from his parents when he was a kid. It had healed within minutes, and Derek had wondered why the hunters hadn’t thought about Derek doing that, why they hadn’t taken precautions to make sure Derek didn’t get out of the handcuffs so easily.

But then when Derek had broken the door handle, got the door open, walked through the threshold and forward a couple steps, he hit an invisible wall, and was flung backward by an invisible force back into the room.

Derek grunted from where he lay on the ground. Mountain ash. Of course. While Derek was strong enough to break open the door, he couldn’t get past it the area outside the door. And Stiles wouldn’t be able to break his own thumb to get out of the handcuffs because he didn’t heal as easily. 

Fuck. 

The metal door was now open a sliver, the handle no longer working to keep the door closed now that Derek had broken it. 

When the hunters brought Stiles back a little while later, they noticed and didn’t immediately toss Stiles back in.

“Stiles!” Derek ran out into the hall and stopped, feeling that invisible force keeping him locked into that room.

They had beaten Stiles. His Stiles. So much so that one of his eyes was swollen shut, and he could barely stand, having to be held up by one of the hunters, and could barely keep his good eye open.

[Art by:[frogsandboxes](http://frogsandboxes.tumblr.com)]

A few of his fingers looked broken. Well, didn’t matter if Stiles broke his thumb now, because both of them already looked broken.

Derek’s growls echoed throughout the room behind him and the hallway, lingering in the air. Derek felt his eyes turn red. 

“D-Der-” Stiles cut himself off with a cough, doubling over as he coughed blood onto the ground. 

“I’ll kill you,” Derek’s voice was low, his growl lingering around the words, hugging them, speaking of promise as he stared at Mike, who smiled and looked wholly unaffected by Derek’s threat. “It’ll be quick, but only because I know Stiles won’t want me to revel in your lifeless body as I tear you limb from limb and claw your guts out.” 

“Now, you see,” Mike laughed, turning to the other two grinning assholes. “A human wouldn’t be able to do such a thing. Only an animal can. A monster.”

“Yes, you can,” Derek said calmly, body tense, pulse thrumming as he held himself in check. “Just because I have claws and you use a knife doesn’t make humans any less capable of slaughter. You’re going to slaughter me, remember?”

Derek saw a slight smirk on Stiles’ bloodied lips and found himself smiling back, catching Stiles’ gaze. 

“It doesn’t come naturally to us like it does to you monsters,” one of the other hunters said, sneering, an obvious attempt to get one up on Derek. 

“Oh, so you choose to slaughter people instead?” 

“We don’t slaughter people,” the hunter holding Stiles up said. 

Derek stared him down, daring him to continue stand there, so proud of himself. Instead the man seemed to wilt under Derek’s stare, shifting uncomfortably.

“You call this humane?” Derek gestured at the battered Stiles, swallowing past the lump in his throat, trying to hold back his tears as rage simmered in his veins.

“He’ll live,” Mike shrugged. Before Derek could retort, he looked at the other two. “Toss him in there.”

They did so, shoving Derek back into the room as well with a taser, and Derek caught Stiles around the waist before he could fall to the ground, cradling him to his body gently, one arm around Stiles’ waist and the other cradling the back of his head. He kissed Stiles on the forehead, whispering how he was going to get them out of here, that they would be okay. 

And it didn’t feel like empty promises, because Derek believed it. 

They shut the door, and Derek heard something heavy being shoved against the door - something to keep from getting out too easily. Even though Derek would never be able to get past the mountain ash. They were being cautious anyway, no doubt.

They must have an Emissary, somehow, one that turned traitor to their pack and became a hunter. Only Emissaries could touch mountain ash. Those men could pour it from a bottle, but they would never be able to connect both ends of the mountain ash to activate its purpose, and they wouldn’t be able to break it either. Only an Emissary could, and that meant they had one.

What they didn’t realize, though, was that Derek had one too. 

Stiles coughed from where he lay his head on Derek’s shoulder, and Derek looked down at him, softly cupping his bruised cheek. 

“I’m sorry,” Derek whispered.

“Not yo-your f-fault,” Stiles rattled out, grimacing. Derek lowered them to the ground, putting Stiles in his lap and holding him close. “Mm,” Stiles hummed, closing his good eye and resting against Derek. 

“You need to rest for a few hours,” Derek murmured. “And then you need to break that mountain ash line.”

Stiles blinked open his one good eye and then looked up at Derek. “We’re getting out of here.”

Derek nodded. “We’re going to have to run, though. We can’t get caught again. If we escape them once, the next time they catch us they won’t let me live long enough to torture me. They’ll kill me the first chance they get. And they’ll probably lock you up for who knows how long. Maybe for life.”

Stiles swallowed visibly, his hold on Derek tightening. “My dad…”

“I know.” Derek knew that even though Stiles’ dad was just as bad as these hunters, if not worse than them, Stiles still loved him. Because of course he did, he was Stiles’ father. Up until Stiles had gone and fallen in love with a werewolf, Stiles’ father had treated Stiles well, great even. 

Stiles had told Derek that as the son who would one day take over leading the hunters in the war against werewolves, his father had never let him want for anything. He had also told Derek that his father had seemed to cling to him in the aftermath of his mother’s death, and had doted on Stiles even more than before, putting all his love and energy into caring for his son. 

The man who could cut a werewolf in half and not think twice about it also went home to his son and hugged him, told him he loved him. He had probably cradled him after a bad dream when he’d been little, probably played with him in the yard on a sunny afternoon, laughing with his son, and would most likely stand in front of a bullet for his son. Stiles had told Derek a few months back about a feral werewolf that his father had shot in the head because he had already clawed at Stiles’ arm, and had been close to biting Stiles, which would have killed him, as it had been an omega, not an alpha. About how he hadn’t left Stiles’ side in the days after, scared the claws would have sunk in deep enough to turn his son into the thing he abhorred.

Stiles had said he’d only been nine at the time, a few months after his mother had died, and that he had looked at his father as his own personal hero after that. 

Lately, that wasn’t the case. But Derek knew Stiles still loved his father, even though he was disillusioned about who his father really was. 

The humans were in power, for now, in the ongoing, seemingly never ending war between the humans and werewolves, and Stiles’ father was the leader of the hunters. Stiles had never even needed to entertain the thought of betraying his people. Until he met Derek.

It hadn’t been a great start between them. Derek was Talia and Michael Hale’s son, and they were the equivalent of John Stilinski to the werewolves. Their leaders. Stiles had captured Derek as a way to impress his father, to prove just how great a hunter Stiles was, how capable he was; to show how ready he was to take over when the time came, and how he’d never let his father down. 

They had fallen in love with each other instead, and the day John Stilinski had found out, Stiles and Derek had run. 

Derek had heard word while they were on the run that his mother and father weren’t happy about his union with Stiles either, and would separate them just as John Stilinski would given the chance. Funny how they were on opposing sides, but both ultimately wanted the same thing: Stiles and Derek torn apart. In that, the humans and werewolves agreed on something. That they couldn’t mix, that it wasn’t right, and wasn’t natural. 

To Stiles and Derek, it was the most natural feeling in the world. 

“I love you,” Derek whispered into Stiles hair, pulling him even closer in his embrace. 

Stiles let out a shaky breath. “I love you, too.”

“You know, if you don’t want to...uh...well,” Derek paused, seeming unsure, then tentatively continued. “This is probably the last chance you have to survive running away. If we run again, and then get caught, you might get hurt beyond repair. Or killed, even though you’re John Stilinski’s son. Are you sure...are you sure you wouldn’t be better off acting as if you’ve seen the light or something? That you hate werewolves again? You’d live, no question. ” Derek braced for the worst, waiting for his heart to break. Derek missed his family, too. But he couldn’t give Stiles up, and wanted more than anything for humans and werewolves to unite. Him leaving Stiles would just continue this fruitless, pointless war. It would make things easier, but Derek didn’t want easy. He wanted Stiles. 

But...it would also make things easier for Stiles, and he would live. Derek wanted Stiles’ safety above all else. If Stiles agreed that separating would be best, then...well, Derek would accept it. He would let him go, even though it would break him.

“No,” Stiles said, looking up at Derek. “I don’t want to do that. I want you. I want to find others who think the same as we do and come up with a way to end this war. I want peace.”

Derek smiled softly, and then leaned forward and gave Stiles the softest, gentlest of kisses, careful not to put pressure on Stiles’ cut lips. 

He pulled away and nuzzled his nose with Stiles’, and then Stiles rested his head back on Derek’s shoulder, and closed his eyes. 

That was that, then. Stiles would rest, and then they would break out of this place. And then, once they were in the clear, they needed food. A shower. Shelter. And Stiles needed to heal from his wounds. That was Derek’s top priority, taking care of Stiles and making sure he was safe. 

~*~

When Stiles blinked his eyes open several hours later, Derek ran a soothing hand through his hair, and Stiles nuzzled further into his shoulder.

“I wish I could stay in your arms forever.”

Derek’s breath stuttered, and he said, “I wish you could, too.”

“But we have to get out of here,” Stiles sighed, and he lifted his head, wincing as he got up from Derek’s lap. Derek sprang up, holding Stiles by his hips to steady him. 

Stiles smiled over his shoulder at Derek, and pulled Derek forward so that his arms were wrapped around Stiles waist, and he was holding Stiles in his arms, his chest plastered to Stiles’ back. 

“You’re too tempting,” Stiles whispered. “Having you surrounding me, holding me, is too tempting.”

“Sorry I couldn’t be more repulsive to you,” Derek whispered, and his pulse tripped over itself when Stiles laughed softly. He loved Stiles’ laugh. 

“You better be,” Stiles teased, and then squared his shoulders, moving out of Derek’s arms and turning to face Derek, his expression serious. “Okay, I’m ready.”

“You okay to run?”

Stiles nodded, a determined glint in his eyes. 

Derek went over to the door, and with all his strength, he pushed against it. He knew there would be security cameras outside, but he hoped by the time the hunters noticed them escaping that he and Stiles would already be on their way out of the building. 

Whatever they put on the other side of the door weighed a ton, but what three grown men could carry, one of Derek could carry. It didn’t take long for Derek to push the door open enough that he and Stiles could fit through. Derek still worked up a sweat, though, and he was panting when he turned to Stiles, who walked over to where Derek was standing with a grimace on his face.

Derek cupped Stiles’ cheek, asking with his eyes if he was okay. He’d noticed Stiles walking with a slight limp. Stiles nodded and moved past Derek, crouching with a groan. 

Then he broke the mountain ash line with a swipe of his hand, and he was slipping through the door.

Just as Derek started to move through the door, alarms blared, and he and Stiles looked at each other for a long second, their breaths caught in their throat. 

Then Derek was slipping through the door, taking Stiles’ hand as they ran down the hall. There were more than just three hunters in this twisting and winding building, because they seemed to come at them from every hallway they ran down, forcing them to turn and go another way. 

At one point Stiles stumbled, and Derek turned to him, wide-eyed.

“Stiles!” Derek shouted, moving close to him as he saw Stiles wincing and panting so much it seemed he could barely breathe. 

“It’s ok-okay, Der-”

“No, I’ve got you,” Derek said, and then he was gently lifting Stiles onto his back piggyback style, taking him by the thighs so he could wrap his legs around Derek’s waist, knowing that would be less of a strain on himself than holding Stiles bridal style. Derek was fully healed at this point, and was barely out of breath. He would be able to get them out of here. 

This place was a fucking maze, though. As they went down one hall, hunters came running toward them, and Derek backed out of the hallway just before a bullet would have gotten him in the forehead. Derek’s heart pounded as he shouted, “are you okay?” back to Stiles, who yelled back an affirmative. 

Derek knew Stiles hated having to be carried. But he’d been tortured only hours before, and had lost his breath after only a little bit of running, and his broken fingers and most likely bruised or broken ribs had to be causing Stiles incredible pain. 

Derek made it halfway down one hallway before it opened up to three other hallways. One straight ahead, one to the right and one to the left. There were no hunters blocking the way here.

“Left left left!” Stiles’ tone was urgent.

Derek proceeded down the left hallway quickly. “Why this way?” Derek called out as he ran down the long hallway.

“Because I know this place!” Stiles called. “I didn’t recognize it at first, but I know it! My dad brought me here a few times over the years to show me how everything works!” There was a pause. “How hunters torture and kill werewolves, I mean,” Stiles said a lot more quietly. But Derek’s werewolf ears were able to pick up on it.

Derek wanted to comment on how Stiles had probably watched a werewolf tortured as Derek was tortured and probably didn’t bat an eye at it. But, right at that moment wasn’t the time. And Derek wasn’t innocent in all this either. He’d seen his parents kill hunters before. Kill other werewolves before, even. 

So Derek didn’t answer and kept moving down the hallway, and before long he saw a door up ahead, even as he heard hunters shouting at some point behind them. He started to run even faster, and even with Stiles hanging on him, holding as tight as he could with his arms around Derek’s neck, Derek was able to make it to the door and kick it open. 

He took one last look over his shoulder at the charging men and women behind them before he ran through it.

~*~

Three days later, Derek opened his eyes to the cracked old ceiling above him. They were at a run down, nondescript motel, getting their bearings before they moved on.

Derek knew they would be on the run for awhile. But his endgame wasn’t for them to keep running. He fully intended to stop at the end of all this, with Stiles safely by his side. 

Turning his head, Derek looked at Stiles, whose bruises were a little faded now, but still fairly prominent. At least the swelling in his eye had gone down enough that Stiles could see out of it. Stiles was sleeping, his chest rising and falling slowly, and Derek couldn’t help but turn on his side and move his hand to softly cup Stiles’ bruised cheek.

Derek still couldn’t believe they’d made it. He had had to run as fast as he could, even with Stiles on his back. Stiles had held onto Derek’s neck and hips tightly, with his arms and legs respectively, as Derek had run so as to not lose his grip and fall. That would have slowed them down and they wouldn’t have been able to afford the time Derek would have needed to pick Stiles up again. The hunters had shot at the ground around Derek’s feet, but they hadn’t shot at Derek himself because of Stiles. All the hunters there knew that if they murdered Stilinski’s son, they’d all be dead. 

Once they had gotten the hunters off their tail, Derek had gently put Stiles down onto his feet, and Stiles had then proceeded to throw up in the bushes near by. Derek had rubbed his back and ran his fingers through Stiles’ hair for comfort. 

Now here they were, not exactly enjoying being alone together when they would have in any other circumstance. Instead they had to keep looking over their shoulders, ready to run at a moments notice if the hunters got close. Derek had no doubt that his parents had sent other werewolves after them as well, and he didn’t know if they would kill Stiles or not if they caught up to them. Derek wasn’t willing to take the chance that they would get caught again. Their main objective, aside from staying alive and not getting captured, was finding the resistance, a growing organization that wasn’t for humans or werewolves, but for both. They wanted peace, and Stiles and Derek were going to find them and join them.

For now, though, they had this moment that was just them. So Derek leaned over and kissed Stiles’ cheek. “Hey, sleepyhead,” Derek whispered. Stiles, who rarely slept deeply these days, fluttered his eyes open, blinking rapidly as he tried to wake up. “Morning.” Derek kissed Stiles’ chin, then his lips, softly, where they were split at two points. 

Stiles sighed, raising his hands up to cup Derek’s cheeks. The metal of the splints Derek had bought at a drugstore the first day for Stiles to put on his five broken fingers in lieu of anything more substantial was cold to the touch. “Hi,” Stiles smiled softly. 

“We should probably get something to eat and then hit the road.” Derek didn’t like having to leave right away, wished he could spend all day in bed with Stiles, but they couldn’t linger too long. 

“Mm, in a minute,” Stiles said, and then leaned up and kissed Derek more firmly than Derek had kissed him. 

“Want a morning blow job?” Derek whispered, smirking at the shudder that went through Stiles’ body at that. 

“Well,” Stiles smirked up at Derek. “I deserve it after all this shit we’ve dealt with.” Stiles meant the words to be teasing, but Derek sobered at the reminder of their capture and torture. 

“I’m sorry,” Derek murmured. “I should have heard them, I should have been more aware-”

“It’s not your fault,” Stiles said firmly, shaking his head at Derek, who had been about to protest. “It’s not. They’re the ones that decided to capture two people and torture them. Not you.”

“They don’t see me as a person,” Derek muttered, sighing before he nuzzled into Stiles’ neck, kissing from his jaw down to his clavicle. 

Stiles sighed, the sound settling into Derek, making him relax further from where he was half covering Stiles’ body with his own. “They see me as one, and they still decided to torture me. They’re not good people.” Derek nodded, accepting Stiles’ assurances for the moment, not wanting to think about it. He just wanted to revel in having Stiles in his arms, alive. “Now, about that blowjob…”

Derek grinned in response and started moving down Stiles’ body, running his fingers under the waistband of Stiles’ boxer briefs. “Well, don’t let me stop you,” Stiles smirked. 

Derek grinned and pulled down Stiles’ boxer briefs enough to expose his cock. When Derek took Stiles’ half-hard dick into his mouth, he shuddered at the gasp Stiles gave and the way he arched into Derek’s mouth. He loved giving Stiles pleasure, loved hearing him gasp and moan and come for Derek. Because of Derek. It was an empowering feeling having such an effect on someone. 

Derek held Stiles’ slim hips in a firm grip, and moved up and down on Stiles’ cock in a slow, steady rhythm. Before long, Stiles was fully hard, his fingers that were wrapped in splints clumsily weaving through Derek’s dark strands as he started minutely thrusting in and out of Derek’s mouth, his movement limited by Derek’s hold on his hips. 

“Fuck, Derek!” Stiles gasped. “I love your mouth on my dick. Feels so good,” Stiles moaned, and then when Derek swiped his tongue around the head of Stiles’ cock, Stiles whimpered, head thrown back onto the pillow, and Derek smirked around Stiles’ cock, feeling his own cock become fully hard at the sound of Stiles’ whimper. Stiles was a very loud, talkative lover and Derek loved it. 

“Fuck,” Stiles panted. “Fuck, that tight heat of your throat around my cock is amazing,” Stiles breathed, and he tightened his hold on Derek’s hair as much as he could when Derek took him all the way in and started sucking. “Fuck! Oh fuck, that’s so good, that’s so amazing, you suck me so well, Derek,” Stiles babbled, his fingers continually carding through Derek’s hair - which Derek normally loved, but the metal of the splints didn’t make it the most amazing feeling. But it still wasn’t anywhere close to a bad or annoying feeling for Derek, so Derek didn’t ask him to stop - and told Stiles he loved it when he eventually paused for breath so Stiles would know it was okay, that Derek didn’t mind the hair pulling, even then. 

“Let me fuck your face, Der, please,” Stiles whimpered, trying to thrust his hips in Derek’s grip. Derek conceded easily, not in the mood that morning to draw it out too long. Stiles thanked Derek on a gasp, holding onto Derek’s hair as he started to thrust up into Derek’s mouth, down his throat. It helped that Derek was a werewolf and could hold his breath longer than a human, because once Stiles started, he let go and always let himself lose a little control.

Stiles planted his feet, and thrust down Derek’s throat repeatedly, babbling the whole time. “Fuck, fuck, you take my cock so amazingly, Derek. I love you, fuck yes! Fuck, the way you let me fuck your throat, the way your throat tightens around my cock, it’s the best fucking sens-at-tionnnn, oh fuckkkk!” 

After Derek took another breath, he happily took Stiles back into his throat, and then Stiles was gone. He was holding Derek’s head in his hands, holding it in place, as he pistoned in and out of Derek’s throat. 

“I’m gonna come, oh fuck I’m gonna come!” Stiles shouted, and Derek swallowed around Stiles’ cock, wishing he could smirk as he heard Stiles keen. “Oh, oh! Ohhhh, fuck, I’m coming! I’m coming!” And then Stiles rammed his cock down Derek throat and practically screamed, holding Derek’s face still as he came down Derek’s throat. Derek couldn’t even taste anything with Stiles as far as he could get down his throat. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Stiles repeated, his chest heaving, his limbs shaking and shuddering, his head thrown back, his eyes closed in bliss. 

Derek felt absolutely powerful as he held Stiles’ cock with his throat. He slowly moved up and down it to milk Stiles of everything he had. Stiles jumped when Derek did that, tightening his hold and digging the nails of his non-broken hands into Derek’s hair. Stiles whimpered again, and Derek just loved getting him to make that sound. 

“Fuck me,” Stiles finally sighed, his body still twitching, his less bruised and healing chest still heaving, as he finished coming. Derek swallowed once more around Stiles’ cock. 

“Derek!” Stiles practically squealed. “Please, t-t-too m-much!” 

Derek slowly pulled off Stiles’ softening cock, making sure to run his tongue around it as he did, which made Stiles groan and shove Derek the rest of the way off his cock. “Goddamn fucking shit,” Stiles whispered. 

Derek crawled up Stiles’ body and kissed his neck, his jaw, then lips before pulling back. Stiles was still twitching, his eyes slitted open, and he looked like he about ready to go back to sleep.

They were quiet for a few moments before Stiles said, “what about you? Want me to return the favor?” and cupped Derek through his jeans. Derek moaned softly and reached down to grab Stiles’ wrist. 

“Later,” Derek said. “I’m okay just holding you for right now.” 

“Okay,” Stiles whispered. Derek gathered Stiles in his arms, tucking his face into the crook in Stiles neck, and he felt Stiles wrap his arms around Derek’s shoulders in response, nuzzling Derek’s cheek with his own. “I love you,” Stiles sighed, grinning weakly up at Derek when Derek pulled back to look at him. 

“I love you, too.” 

“I don’t want to be without you,” Stiles murmured, voice serious as he looked into Derek’s eyes, cupping his cheek. 

“You won’t be,” Derek promised, even though he knew he couldn’t truly promise that. But he didn’t care. He didn’t want to be without Stiles either. “We’ll find a way to end this war. Together.”

“Together,” Stiles agreed and Derek settled back down on top of Stiles, tucking his face back into Stiles’ neck, where Derek kissed his neck one more time before closing his eyes, surrounded in Stiles’ scent, in the feel of his skin. 

In that moment, before they had to leave and face reality, Derek was content in the arms of the man he loved, so he let himself relax completely, falling asleep in a matter of minutes.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! You can find me over on [Tumblr](http://haletostilinski.tumblr.com).


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